


Kiwi

by Queen_Haruka



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Brendon Stop Glittering, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid Character, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Mpreg, Jesse Please Calm Down, Josh Is Done With Everyone, M/M, Multi, don't knock it till you try it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11276613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Haruka/pseuds/Queen_Haruka
Summary: The first time Josh saw them, they were working through a cheap pack of a cigarettes, hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect.





	Kiwi

**Author's Note:**

> Summary and fic's title credits aaaaall go do baby Harry Styles with his song Kiwi (just changed the pronouns heh) I love him. (not as much as I love josh and tyler but STILL) this fic is all his fault, who asked him to stay in my head ALL day and sing Kiwi? Who gave him the right?
> 
> this is the result. my loves please, you HAVE to listen to Kiwi to fully understands this fic. Please please please please.

 

 

 

 

>            Josh sometimes thinks he lost the love of his life to New York.

It's dumb because the love of his life decided one day that - well, that Josh just wasn't the one. Which is fair. Totally. Josh isn't one to start drama, so if his feelings aren't returned, he'll just have to cry the whole night and get over it. The thing is that - he can't. Not this time around; not with  _this_ person.

They broke it off four years ago and Josh is still madly in love. He met them again a month ago and things happened. Like the two of them hooking up. It was a bad idea, everyone had told him so, but Josh had seen heaven the whole time he had been with them and could still touch the sky if he closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

A lipstick stain on the collar of his shirt. It's all he has to make sure this encounter wasn't a dream. Let's be honest here, Josh isn't ashamed to admit that the shirt is never to be washed ever again. Its place is underneath his pillow - sacred and the last thing he touches before he loses consciousness.

He's crazy, he thinks sometimes as he realizes the gravity of his actions. He doesn't care, his conscience explains as he looks at the lipstick stain with adoration swimming in his eyes.

Josh is a simple guy. He loves partying with his friends, hates his job and dreams about throwing everything to the wind and make music for a living. But he's scared. Scared to fail, scared to disappoint his family, scared to not be good enough. So he does something he hates, forgets everything on the weekends and thrives on every opportunity he gets to do  _music_.

Yeah, Josh is a simple guy. A simple guy who's obsessed with a ghost of his past. A ghost of his past he has dreamed of marrying and having as many children as possible and call them  _his_ , call them  _their._ A fruit of their love and a little life that couldn't be anything  _but_ beautiful because it had come from the love of his life.

Josh is twenty-seven. He's still madly in love and bangs his head on his big-ass desk because he isn't living. He's just surviving, every day that he doesn't have his angel in his life.

Wow, that was deep. Josh should write it down and carry it with him. You know, in case he meets his angel. So that he could, you know, show them. Maybe they'll be impressed and Josh would have the opportunity to kidnap them.

Sounds like a plan.

A tornado gleaming obscenely barges in. It nearly breaks down the door of his office, Josh is a little bit offended. "What did my door do to be treated this badly?" He asks, hurt for his door. The tornado judges him, Josh is feeling more and more offended by the second.

"What the fuck," the gleaming tornado answers, and Josh should stop calling Brendon a tornado because the guy might just take a liking on it. God forbids Brendon took a liking to something  _again._

He definitely doesn't  _pout_ as he gets back to banging his head on his desk - hard. It's an obnoxiously large one, imposing and all that jazz. People quiver when they're behind it, they're scared. His coworkers say it's something about the large office richly decorated. And Josh's face. Which is offensive, mind you, because Josh is as dangerous as a puppy. So he hurts himself and hurts the desk, this is justice, he's sure about it.

"You're a moron," Brendon says sagely as he dumps a load of stupid white papers on Josh's desk. They're probably not stupid and really important. But Josh is feeling rude today and he wants to be mean, so he'll get as far as his personality allows. He'll call the white papers stupid and glare at Brendon. His gleaming friend only grins. "A cute moron."

Josh wants to make him eat his papers. The thing is, Brendon's just doing his job. Even if he likes to judge Josh on his weird antics. Wait. "Stop judging me," He accuses, letting himself fall on his hefty desk when he gets tired of hurting his head. "You're like, the last person on earth who's allowed to do that."

"That's true," Brendon admits with a shrug. It's too little of an answer for someone as extra as Brendon is. Josh just has to wait a bit before the gleaming menace screams and falls down on the seat facing his, dramatically. See? "I'm so done with life!"

"Same." Josh agrees immediately, eating some popcorn he founds on one of his drawers. It's not a good idea. Like, not sanitary at all. 

Brendon forgets the tirade that had been bubbling inside him to fix Josh with an alarmed look. "You keep popcorn in your drawers?"

"Dude," Josh whispers, and Brendon gets it. He just motions for Josh to give him soon. Bless. "So? What the heck happened for you to be done with life?"

"You can like, say hell, if you want to," Brendon offers, managing to be perfectly clear even if his legs and arms and heck, his whole body is seated weirdly on the chair. This piece of furniture is solid and incredibly comfortable. _Still_.

Josh gets back on track. Then, he proceeds to pout in a very manly way. "That's, uh, bad. That's a bad word." The love of his life ounce made a comment on bad words. They weren't disapproving but you know, Josh wants to be sure. "Tell your story already!" He mutters, flicking a piece of popcorn on Brendon.

It hits him dead on the forehead. His gleaming forehead. Josh cheers and gets a dozen of pieces of popcorn for his efforts. "Asshole." Fair enough.

Brendon goes back to watching the ceiling with a dramatic air, sun spilling on his face and creating shadows under his eyes and all that cinematic. It's a funny coincidence that gets Josh to settle down. So he turns silently on his spinning chair, listening. 

 "Ryan is being an asshole about our project," Brendon starts, sounding dejected. That's when Josh realizes his friend is sad  _sad._ Not sad-a-second, sad-angry or sad-you're-going-down. He was so immersed in his self-wallowing that he misinterprets Brendon's lack of outbursts for judgment. Well, he's still a judging asshole most of the times, but then he grins like a madman and tells you to go on and be wild.

Right now, he's sad. Sad _sad_. Josh is more than concerned. "What happened? And what project?" He asks, blinking owlishly. Brendon turns his eyes away from the ceiling to scowl at him. Well.

"Our project Josh!" He groans as he waves his lanky arms, "The one we were so enthusiastic about for like, a whole month non-stop!"

Oh. _Oh_. This project. Josh feels a familiar fire spread in his head, memories attack him from every sense and a stupid grin tugs at his smile. He's freaking happy just by thinking about it, even if this project seems unachievable. He tells Brendon so. "It's crazy," The way he gets back at spinning again and let his gaze wander toward the tiny drumset on his desk betrays his hope.

Brendon sees it. "We're crazy," He hums, a challenging glint in his eyes. "That's why we're going to do it and succeed." And you know, Josh doesn't need more convincing to agree. He's been working on their project on and off, doing little boring tasks out of the hundreds they had to finish to complete their goal. The desire had been there but the morale - absent. Josh was a simple guy. He got insecure and scared real quick, he was as ambitious as his team was, but he lacked the fire, this little something insane that made the impossible possible.

(His other half had this. They were insane, in the most delicious way possible.)

"Alright," He murmurs, and he's alright, he's okay with this. He'll believe in them, at least, even if he had no faith in himself. Who knows? Maybe they'll succeed. And maybe, just maybe, he'll be good enough for his angel. Josh takes a deep breath. "So, what did he say about that?"

Brendon blinks. "Who?" He lets out an indignant yelp when Josh throws another piece of popcorn at him. That gleaming dude had no right to be indignant, Josh should be. He had been so worried about Brendon's mood and got in so deep about thoughts of their project - and this flamboyant tornado had the audacity to forgets what they were talking about!

He gets back at eating his popcorn in a sullen mood, eyebrows drawn together as Brendon sighs. Yeah, sigh all you want you glistening tornado. 

"Sorry my dude," Brendon mutters pitifully. He looks genuinely sorry, but then again, he's a born actor. Josh eyes suspiciously the piece of paper Brendon is waving toward him in lieu of an offering. "Take this friend, It's a good purchase for a massage from the one and only Brendon Urie."

Josh wants to make him eat his coupons. "Your business is never going to take off, give up already."

"You've been obsessing over the same person for the last seven years, hope is for everyone man." Brendon Urie is a savage tornado. He rolls his eyes as Josh winces and mutters something about six years and eleven months. Jesus. "Anyway, Ryan is an asshole and I hate him." He mutters as he crosses his arms.

Josh feels like he went from sad _sad_ to sad-angry. An improvement, he's sure about it. Even if his sad-angry mode is that of a five-year-old. Sometimes Josh forgets who's the older one between the two of them. "What did he do _again_?"

"He never takes me seriously!" Brendon whines, moving weirdly on his seats and throwing every kind of paillettes all over Josh's beautiful beige carpet. "Whenever I propose an idea he'll have something to say about it, a mean remark or...or...he's just never satisfied!" 

Josh lets him throw his very-much-adult tantrum and plays with his pen meanwhile, letting his cheek rest on the palm of his hand and thinking about how weird he must look like. He knows he might seem imposing when he's not smiling. His face isn't hard per se, but it definitely lacks the easy and friendly aura that Brendon possesses or the soft one of his angel. They didn't smile much, for they hated their own smile, which was a serious crime in Josh's eyes. So he had been accustomed to seeing no expression on their face - or unreadable one. Those expressions managed to still be soft. His angel was soft even when mad.  

And although everyone could attest that Josh was seriously as sweet as a puppy, his resting face gave the vibes of unapproachable. So Josh liked to dye his hair. If he had the expression of a punk, he might just as well have the hair the tattoos and the piercings.  

He was a rebel only in appearance though. Any first contact with him gave him away. Gentle and smiling and all around helpful - he couldn't stop himself, his mama raised him right. 

The picture they were painting with Brendon never ceased to be amusing.

When silence finally greets him instead of his friend's babbling, he looks up. Brendon's still here. He's just thinking, as crazy as it sounds. Josh doesn't know what to say, but he's a good friend, so he'll say something. 

"Ryan's gay for you," He blurts out, increasing the speed of his hits on the table. It would sound like a real beat if the confusion of what he just said didn't wreck everything.

"What?" 

"What?"

They look at each other murderously. Well, Brendon is, Josh is confused because sometimes he says _things_ and those things are always strange and get him in trouble. Brendon opens his mouth to say something, Josh awaits the moment he'll be shouted at, or attacked by a mass of suspicious popcorn. But then Brendon closes his mouth and relax, thinking.

Has Josh said something right? He doesn't cheer, just makes himself smaller in his chair and spins around until the yellow mass on his head is nothing but a blur. A traitorous thought appears out of nowhere - would his angel like his hair color? Josh isn't the kind of person to change to please anyone, and he's pretty sure his angel would be quite mad if he became someone else.

The thing is, he's so far gone for them he's ready to do anything. What a madness.

Brendon makes a weird kind of noise. His cheeks are red, like a flustered kind of red. 

"Did you get high while I wasn't looking at you?" Josh asks, suspicious. It's a dumb question, he's always looking even if he's not seeing

His glittering friend judges him again. Josh is resigned instead of offended this time around. Why are they like this?

"Why are you like this?" Brendon asks as if he's reading his thoughts. This is a bad use of his potential power then, for Josh doesn't have the answer himself. He's sure he wouldn't be stuck in this monotonous life if he did. He would be living off music, changing people's lives in another way than doing paperwork and being stuck in a golden tower freaking _four_ _teen hours_ a day.

He's lucky, he knows it. A stable job, a loving family and friends, people who wouldn't mind being with him and a more than promising future. It's how everyone sees it, at least. It's not the reality - far from it. Josh doesn't know how to explain, is stuck whenever he tries to talk about it, it's a freaking circle.

There are only two things in the world that give Josh's humble life a meaning. Music. And his angel.

Nowadays, he feels like he lost both of them. "I wonder," He sighs. Brendon wants to say something, his eyebrows shot up like whenever he's ready to talk, but Josh doesn't let him. "You and I both know that this project is as important to Ryan as it is for you. Don't get yourself sick about it, please B'."

He didn't blurt out anything this time around. There's nothing to think about, actually, Josh knows all about it. He knows about his whole team's personal ambitions behind their project. Therefore, he knows Ryan isn't abject with Brendon for no reasons.

Still. The two of them may both be his friends, Josh had never hidden the fact that Brendon was one of the people he held the closest to his heart. As such, seeing him hurting didn't leave him insensible. He'll have to talk to Ryan. Secretly, hopefully. 

Brendon straightened in his seat, a genuine smile on his lips and his expression quirked in a teasing way. Josh had come to associate it with Brendon's good mood. The real one, not the fake he liked to flaunt, the one that was so perfect and fooled everyone. No. Brendon seemed pleased - no masks. "Thanks, J', I mean it."

"Don't worry about it," He answered, voice soft. Brendon was as much of a tornado as when he appeared, but he shined brighter and was gentle with his door. Josh was pleased.

Pleased and melancholic. 

His office was so  _silent._ Josh yearned to go out there and talk with his coworkers - but that was his life now. It had been so since his angel disappeared four years ago in New York's streets.

Josh missed the way they went through a cheap pack of cigarette. Hard and clean, gracious and gorgeous. Then the smoke disappeared, and they didn't smoke for months along. It was a ritual, once, in months, they'll pull strange-looking clothes and open the windows, look at the world below with eyes older than their body.

Then, they'll go through a pack of cigarette. A cheap one. Hard and clean. And sometimes people looked, and once they did - they were hooked.

Josh had been hooked for seven years now. He had been unable to break free since then.

But he loved it.

It drove him crazy, sometimes to the point of crying, of yearning so much it hurt to take a breath. But he was into it, oh  _so_ into it.

_It drove him crazy._

 

 

 

 

Working seems so boring then.

It's all his faults, he has to assume them. Still, it doesn't erase the mindblowing numbness that takes over him when he starts working on the paperwork Brendon gave him. That damned glittering tornado is far from being his secretary - hell no. He has a respectable role as the thirteen-floor manager of their company, meaning, a lot of things to do. But Brendon is Brendon, and he always finds the time to make Josh's life miserable. He says it's tough love. 

Josh makes him eat something. Preferably, something not comestible. Like paper or his stupidity.

He's been in the building for less than an hour and he's prepared to jump, already. Oh, the job isn't hard, he's qualified for it, his parents made sure of that before they let him fly with his own wings. 

As freely as one could with working in the family company, he thinks with a bitter laugh.

They don't mean any harm, he knows it. The thing is, his parents don't know the power of their insistent earnest and uncomfortable meddling. Josh is a good kid, everyone knows he's a mama's boy and has a lot of respect for his father. They're good people, great even. Something tells him that if he had been a little less scared and a lot more confident, he wouldn't be stuck here.

Signing contracts for artists he's _dead jealous_ of. Not of their position, not of their talents, but the thing he's the most jealous of is their courage to pursue what they wanted in life. Josh had dreams of music since he stumbled over Green Day's CDs.

Oh, he's living in those dreams alright. From the other side of the mirror.

Josh wants to abandon everything so  _bad_. He yearns to give up his job and travel around the world in search of home - but then he remembers, home is where hard liquor is mixed with intellect in his angel's eyes. The angel that does not want him anymore, the angel he lost to New York.

It's like, seriously depressing. So Josh gives a fleeting glance to the _06:56 A.M_ blinking clearly on his watch and gets back to work. He's frustrated though, and that sucks. He went through a lot of stages. One of them being the 'get over it', where he did his best to push them behind him. It lasted for a year. A year of repressed memories and denial. In the end, he was more miserable than ever and finally found joy in allowing himself to think about how much _they_ loved cactus.

They couldn't take care of plants to save their life, Josh couldn't count the number of time they cried as yet another one of their beloved died. He had offered them a cactus when the two of them were nothing more than friends. The smile he got in return made him want to buy them a whole goddamn forest of cactus - if only they smiled like that one more time.

Josh is three hours into his paperwork. Relief only comes in Jesse sending him memes and Brendon's loud singing behind the closed door. Bittersweet memories attack him from time to time, just like in the last four years. He wants to think he's okay, that if a miracle happens and he gets to meet his beloved one more time - he won't ask for anything but their friendship. He won't ask more than their daily presence in his life. Josh would like to think he'll be able to live with that.

The thing is, he's a _greedy greedy greedy_ man for his angel. He knows. It's better for his angel to not cross path with him once again; for Josh  _will_ take them captive and never release them ever again.

Yeah, that was kind of criminal, but Josh was a goner for them.

 He's only hurting himself, he thinks with a sigh as he completes yet another contract. There's a lot to do. He has more than three meetings with the company board today, his mother's back in town and  _insisted_ on having lunch with her son fo the whole  _month._ Then there's Jesse who has every kind of parties once every week - from a night to the club facing a group visit to a museum. He doesn't take  _no_ for an answer, and if Josh tries to bullshit his way out of his plans, he can be sure his day is going to be ruined. Oh, Jesse isn't mean. He'll just barge in Josh's company and annoys his employees with crappy jokes.

"It's nice to see someone who can appreciate my humor," He had whispered to a confused lady. She was just trying to do her job, and a strange individual came out of nowhere and started talking to her. Plus, his jokes were lame.

Brendon had looked at the chaos and kept eating his popcorn with a terrible laugh. This bastard. Wait, maybe the suspicious popcorn in his drawers came from him...

As it was, Josh stopped putting any kind of resistance since then. Who knew what Jesse would do? He had a knack to chose his friends - one who glittered, spread his gay everywhere and judged you from the corner of a room, and another to whom you just couldn't say no _or else_.

His life was  _full._ His life was  _great_. He couldn't keep wrecking it over a lost love, over regrets and 'what ifs'. He had to forget. _He had to he had he had to._

This resolution is quickly followed through. Josh is a man of actions, guys. And so forth, he unashamedly uses the over-expensive material in his office to blast off what his parents call heathen's music. Hey, he's not frauding! It's his company, technically, therefore he  _owns_ everything here. Josh ... just doesn't like to be reminded of that most of the time. Too much responsibility.

But the hardcore music takes his mind off his obsessive thoughts, and soon there's a grin pulling at his lips at the same time as his pen starts a beat of its own. His eyes squirm over his work, clear and awake and  _ready_. He doesn't like his job, but it's not a reason to slack off and wallow in despair. He'll do it - there are no minds on this earth good music can't solve. Like,  _good_ music. Music with words and meaning that resonate within you. Music which makes your body vibrate and your worries evaporate.

His heart is an asshole and constricts. His angel's silky voice resonates in his head, at the same time as his mind whispers that no melody in the world could compare to _their_ singing.

Josh is stubborn, and he chases this thought away immediately.

In the middle of  _Smells Like A Teen Spirit,_ he receives a text notification. Now, that's not strange, his friends do not know what 'working diligently' mean and love to send him texts whenever and wherever. Josh isn't Brendon so he doesn't judge.

He's a nice guy.

**_Did you ever wonder why the sun rises and sets? -_** received10-16-2017 10:30 AM

Josh looks at his phone blankly.

_\- What the fuck_ , he answers descriptively. 

_**C'mon dude I'm sure you often lay wide awake at night wondering about that!! -**_ received10-16-2017 10:30 AM

Josh most certainly does  _not_.

- _What the fuck,_ he answers again, wondering if Jesse finally lost his mind. It'll be a shame, he does Josh's nails better than his two sisters and mother combined. Which says a lot, because the ladies in the Dun family are queens when it comes to nail. Josh is jealous.

_**You shall finally have your answers tonight, at my professional reunion. We'll talk about art and life and wine. Here, have the video of a cat standing on its two legs and jumping around to judge you on the table. -**_ received10-16-2017 10:31 AM

Josh is left with the sleeves of his dress suit rolled, an important paper on his left hand that holds the carrier of an unsuspecting artist, and his phone on the right one watching intently that blessed cat. He probably looks strange right now, but all the blame goes to Jesse. The blame  _often_ goes to Jesse. And if not, then toward Brendon, most certainly.

_\- Sure,_ he types back, because he doesn't want Jesse to come back to his office and scare his employees again. Even though his parties are nonsense, and this one is going to be nonsense too. At least, he discovered another video of a cute cat.

Josh loves cats, guys.

_**Your codename is Chairman Miao, since you're Asian and all. You'll be obligated to say it before you can enter the suite. -**_ received 10-16-2017 10:32 AM

_\- I won't do such things,_ Josh warns, way past the time where he stood bewildered for minutes in front of Jesse's randomness. He hears a scream from behind the door, alarmed.

A frazzled-looking woman knocks on his door and enters shakily, tears in her eyes. "S-Sir?" She squeaks out, looking as if she was torn between laughing and crying. Josh was a bit weirded out and forgot to correct her. He hates it when people call him  _Sir._ He tried to make them call him by his given name, but they always end up looking at him in horror. It's a bit depressing.

Jesse is sending him copied and paste texts about why people lived and died, Josh is starting to see a pattern. He addresses her a confused smile. "What is it?" 

"There's a strange man who's harassing me with cats over the phone," She whispers frantically, and the way she looks around her makes Josh understand that she's scared Jesse would come out of nowhere with cats and creepy talks. That poor woman. 

- _Leave my employees alone or I'll unsubscribe off our friendship. No, forget it, I'm suing,_ he immediately texts Jesse after reassuring the lady. Maria or something like that. Probably. She didn't look convinced at all, Josh feels a bit bad for her. He also feels more bad for himself because he'll have to go to Jesse's professional Reunion which will obviously be nothing  _but_ professional.

_**See you in court sweaty, ;) -** received 10-16-2017 10:35 AM_

Jesse is a meme Lord and Josh hates him.

He turns on his music back and ignores all the other texts Jesse sends him. It's probably about the details of the supposed to be serious reunion and cats videos. Or videos in general. Maybe some memes too. Or Jesse's last adventure in the Zoo.

It's not even eleven AM and Josh is already tired. He's been sitting in this chair for nearly  _five_ hours, and he'll be trapped here for two more hours just in time for lunch. He's a man of action, okay, so he gets up with some documents in his hands and turns his music louder. 

His secretary enters fifteen minutes later after knocking and obtaining no answers. Josh is whipping his head back and forth and screaming the lines of his paper instead of the right lyrics. 

They look at each other blankly. Josh is a tiny bit uncomfortable, so his smile is uncomfortable too. His secretary opens his mouth. Then he decides it's really not worth it and he's not paid enough for this weirdness and makes a tactical retreat.

Josh looks at the door longingly. He wants to escape too. Everyday. He wakes up and does his cleanup routine before he takes his coffee, as black as his soul. There's this guy in their breakroom who loves to whispers that Mr. Dun likes his coffee like himself. Sweet but too hot for you. 

He isn't going to lie, he laughed. Everyone else did too, but then they looked at Josh contemplatively. His trips to the break room became scarce then, the thirsty glint in their eyes scared him too much. 

So he does as usual. He pesters Brendon with messages and emojis to have a coffee delivered and gets fifty shades of 'fuck off' in return. Josh is kind of offended, so he eats the rest of the popcorn stored in his drawers sullenly and stares at the clear sky. It's blue and sunny. 

Josh wants  _so_ bad to be outside right now, he changes his music to one that reminds him of the Carribean and makes plans to go here which, he swears, doesn't involve a certain angel who possessed a cheap pack of cigarettes and liquor mixed with intellect. 

He may or may not be lying. 

Gosh, it's twelve AM now and Josh would like to think less about an impossible future with the love of his past and more of a future with the girl that's been hitting on him for a year straight now. She's pretty, gorgeous even, and a total sweetheart. Josh isn't gay enough to not appreciate her sweet smile and deadly curves, they should be together by now - but Josh just can't bring himself to commit. Every time he tries to ask her out - Bambi-like eyes flash in his mind and he loses his words. Every time she offers a serious relationship, it's horror that catches his throat and turns his expression to one of stone.

He had to forget. _He had to he had to he had to._

Luckily, lunch with his mother is in an hour. He can already hear her cheery voice and the hundredth of stories about his siblings she's prepared to tell. It makes him smile in the middle of his office.

That room is vast for reasons that he doesn't care about. He's the only one in here, it gets lonely. Really lonely. He spent four years in what he likes to call the golden tower, yet he's still not used to it and still so freaking _confused_ there is rarely a day that passes without him asking himself that one question.

Where would he be if he was still with _them_?

The answer is white, colored and decorated with fireworks and  _thrill._ Josh feels regret. Regret and  _anger_. He's angry at them because it feels like they hold the key to his happiness, angry at himself because he's so goddamn pathetic.

Four years. Four years of bitterness behind a tentative layer of happiness, with its only highlight being  _this night_ with them, a month ago.

It's ridiculous. Josh is ridiculous. They're ridiculous too. Who leaves his partner of three years to, as they said,  _discover New York?_

The more Josh thinks about it, the more he realizes how it must have been nothing but an excuse. It leaves him in disarray because then-

Why, angel?

What would be more important than... us?

Josh spends the rest of the day with that one question blackening his morale. It's been such a long time since he thought so intensely about his angel... He's starting to understand now why he didn't do that more often. 

The memories may be beautiful, their pretty face on a pretty neck so delightful to dream of; but-

_It hurts too much to think he lost it all forever._

 

 

 

 

 

>  The guards  _know_ Josh. They do. He's been friends with Jesse for a little more than two years now. He's been up here more than his own house. 

Yet they're just being assholes right now. Josh blames it on Jesse's influence. It's convenient to blame everything on Jesse since he's the culprit most of the time.

Josh's lunch with his mother went exactly like he predicted. She walked into the lovely dinner beside his company with sparkles and flowers following her steps. Josh had wondered if he was dreaming - but no. There were  _literally_ sparkles and flowers following his mother. 

Patrons had looked at her strangely, Josh had looked at her strangely too, but a smile from her and they all went back to minding their own business. His mother was badass, it never ceases to amaze Josh.

As it was, she  _had_ talked about her siblings, his father, and the thirty-five cats they were herding in their home. That had made Josh's drifting thoughts about his angel quieten down right there.

Josh both dreaded and loved lunches with his mother.

On one hand, he loved her. On another, she always asked if he was happy, a hopeful glint in her eyes that he couldn't shut down.

So he lied. He wasn't proud, but he lied and said he was more than happy. She smiled like the sun itself.

The rest of Josh's day had been so  _dull_ , he wondered, as he went home if he didn't become as dull himself.

Fortunately, his mother's parting remark of "Your hair is so bright! My sunny boy!", never failed to chase away the dark clouds of Monday.

He had still been smiling when he parked his car in Jesse's private garage. 

Though right now, he definitely is  _not_ smiling as he watches other guests fire off weird cat names and get allowed to enter the building. Seriously?

"Jon, am I obligated?" He whines as he hears a chirpy ' _Catalie Portman'_ beside him. The red-haired woman winks at him and skips away toward the golden lift with a joyous laugh.

Josh senses a conspiracy.

"I'm sorry man, you know how Jesse gets." Jon shrugs, trying to muffle his laugh. His role as a security guard sucks and Josh is not scared at all.

But he's blocked.

"...Chairman Miao."

Jon and the other guards don't even try to hide their laughs now, and other traitorous guests unashamedly laugh with them. Josh wants to make them all eat their luxurious gowns and tuxedos.

He grumbles the whole ride in the lift, but there's no heat in his words, the atmosphere is relaxed and joyous even though they're still outside. Plus, a girl told him his nickname could never be worse than  _Halley Purry._ He agreed.

It doesn't take him much time to arrive at his destination. The already well-lit corridors start shining even more with fancy decorations, a clear indication that they're entering Jesse's... domain. Yes, this is the right word.

His hands are in his dress pants when he arrives, an entertained smile on his lips. He's pretty sure none of the guests are drunk, but they're all already acting so crazy he's starting to have some doubts. A respectable grandmother he often saw in charity dinners is painting an artistic "YO" with skulls all around on the beige carpet they're walking on. She doesn't stop when people come, seemingly because they all congratulate her and take pictures."Incredible, lady Jennifurr...!" An older gentleman gasps.

Josh wisely does not comment. He smiles as if nothing weird is happening when people greet him.

Tomorrow is a work day, he can't get wasted. It sucks, one needs to be wasted in one of Jesse's 'Professional' Reunion. Otherwise, you might become as strange as him. Which, for your information, is  _not_ a good idea.

He gets a sense of deja vu when a pink and glittering tornado opens the large, glass door before he can. The tornado is awfully pink, and its grin is scary. "Hello, my sweet child."

Brendon judges the weird noise that comes out of Josh's mouth when he's dragged inside the open suite forcefully. "Jesus, Brendon!"

"Ah, no, sadly this is not me. I'm not  _that_ holy." Brendon quips back, smiling dazedly as Josh.

Someone runs past them with a laugh, but stop just long enough to shout a, "You're the last person on earth who can be called holy, Urie!"

Brendon nods sagely. "True."

Josh was already done with all of them. But it would be a lie to say he wasn't thriving in this chaos. Nothing was professional in this obscenely large and extravagant room. It was as if one stepped into another world - not like your typical parties, no no. This one had the air of a revolution, but instead of black-blue-purple chaos, one found yellow-pink-orange of emotions, of smiles and laughs in a comfortable setting with delectable music. They were swimming in pure good humor, all of them. Josh recognize them, they were the large circle of people Jesse loved enough to invite  _every night_ to one of his events. Yet, they're also the ones he saw with grim and solemn expressions in the open world, those that were said to be bitter and impossible to approach on their workplace - and even in their own family.

And here they were. Free.

Free and happy.

Jesse may be going overboard most of the time, but everyone here was thankful. Thankful for all of this, for the fact he managed to create such safe and fun places for all of them - those broken excuse of adults.

He grabs a non-alcoholic drink from the bar, with a chatting and gossiping Brendon attached to his hip. He looks more than a bit tipsy, and Josh is secretly grinning evilly to the prospect of him being hangover tomorrow. Hopefully, the tornado will be  _less_ glittering by then. 

"I'm an unsuccessful robber from 19870's," A purple-haired girl giggles at his feet, sat like a yoga goddess on the carpeted floor as she smiles lazily to the thin air. "I met my husband here, he was robbing the same bank!" She burst into laughter after this, and Josh can't help himself from laughing with her - he's genuinely happy, and that makes him even _happier_. He's got a night away from the memories of caramel-like skin spread in silk sheets, Josh is free from his own mind tonight - God bless Jesse Cale.

The music gets louder. Everyone cheers, and you know what? Josh cheers too, he discards his jacket and let himself be dragged into a game of Wink Murder. There are Hayley and Ashley and Jeremy and a lot of people that are grinning like crazy - Josh starts laughing once again. 

Further in the room, a bit higher than their floor thanks to a tiny staircase, Josh can see blurry paintings hung stylishly around, a lot like an exposition. Nearly half of the guests are in this part of the room - it's dimly-lit but there's this comfortable air that Josh can feel even from his place.

A confused moue appears on his face as he feels a pain in his stomach. It's... not really a pain, but more like this feeling when one got excited and anxious at the same time. It travels to his heart too, and Josh starts panicking inside. What's going on-?

"Let's get some murders on," Hayley whispers, her orange hair glittering in the lights. Josh is proud to call her a mentor in the dyeing section.

He chugs down his drink to push away the weird feelings in the pit of his stomach. A fluke, surely. "I'm pretty sure you'll be the first one to die," He teases her lightly, grinning when she hits him on the arm, pouting.

They're interrupted by a familiar figure planting themselves in between them. "Hey Demi Meower," Jesse purrs, his blue-painted lips stretching in a pleased smile as he looks at Hayley. She squeals and jumps into his arms, laughing some more when he easily spins her around and does his best to hit Josh while he's at it.

"Asshole," Josh throws him a sullen look, glad to have emptied his drink. Both Hayley and Jesse smile angelically at him. he rolls his eyes. Conspiration.

"Mind if I steal Chairman Miao here?" The tall man continues, squeezing her against him fondly. She nods with a hum, pushing delicate fingers in his long brown strands. His hair is gorgeous, seriously, Josh is a bit jealous sometimes. 

She claps her hand and releases him, only to push Josh toward Jesse just after. "He's all yours, Oprah Whisker!"

Josh stares. "What the fuck," The two of them smile peacefully. They look kind of really proud about those nicknames, Josh doesn't know if he should be disturbed or not. In the end, when Jesse yank him away from the ocean of people to the  _further room_. Josh's stomach makes a somersault. This part of the suite isn't scary, far from it. It's large, larger than the place they were in, and the big windows from the ground to the ceiling gave a great view of New York's skyscrapers.

It's Josh's favorite place in Jesse's suite. So why is he feeling so... weird?

"You have to see this exposition," Jesse babbles, saluting his people with a nod as they walk quickly to their destination. "It's a relatively unknown artist, but they're talented. Like, crazy talented."

Josh is paranoid and obsessed, guys, a petite figure with paint on their whole body flashes into his mind. He bites his lips. "T-they...?"

"Yeah," Jesse answers, slowing down to give Josh a gentle smile. "I talked with them before I invited them, obviously. They're... Genderfluid, and go by neutral pronouns." He had a wistful glint in his eyes, but Josh is too busy panicking and getting his hopes up for nothing. It's not the first time something like that happens. Every time he hears something about a singer or a painter or heck, a musician, a gleam of hope ignites in his heart - and he ends up disappointed when he doesn't see his angel. "You know how nosy I get, so, as we chatted, I discovered something  _incredible._ "

And so forth, as they're only steps away from the crowd, Josh closes his eyes and does his best to crush his hopes  _himself._ It's less painful when he waves away his illusions, the fall doesn't hurt so bad. He nods weakly at Jesse's chatter, the words registering clearly in his head.

"It's amazing!" He hears someone whisper-shouts, clear enjoyment in their voice.

A lot of positive feedback can be heard all around this part of the room, they're like little children marveling in front of a piece of wonder. "Their art is ... special. A good kind of special."

"Otherworldly, don't you think so?" A feminine voice sings with delight beside Josh, quickly followed by her friends. He hears applauses, that get gradually louder to the point of overriding the loud music. Then there's  _another_ kind of congratulations, Josh can hear it.

"Nature has blessed you..."

He peeks his eyes open, head turned to the ground. It's like-

_"Tyler, congratulations!"_

Josh looks up so fast, he feels a crack in his neck. But the pain doesn't register -the shock is too big.

Jesse cheers, letting go of his arm to run toward the lanky figure in the middle of the room. They were standing there, a heavy blush on their cheeks as people all around swarmed them with congratulations and praises.

He felt like he would fall to his knees when he saw a  _cheap pack of cigarettes_ in their hand. All the previous sounds in the room pounding in his head vanished in the background, leaving his mind empty and way too full at the same time. A knot strangles his throat, he lifts a trembling hand toward it, finding himself in difficulties to  _breathe._ Oh Lord, what the  _fuck_ was happening?

_Tyler_ rolled his eyes when Jesse took the pack of cigarettes from his hand, chiding him slightly. "A pregnant person should  _not_ smoke!"

He-

"You're fucking  _pregnant?"_ Josh nearly shouts; there's rage and hurt clear in his voice. Tyler turns big eyes toward him, wide like saucers and shock dancing on his delicate features. His usual tan pales suddenly, and people around him panic when he wobbles on his feet, a man who was way too  _damn_ close puts his arm around his waist to support him. 

Jealousy turns Josh green. That man doesn't need to be so fucking close to Tyler. Nobody but Josh does.

But it's always like this, it's always been like this. Tyler doesn't need the alluring charm of working through a cheap pack of cigarettes to make people be intrigued in his petite self. They just have to bat long eyelashes throwing a shadow over eyes the color of hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect - and all the boys started saying they were into it.

Who wouldn't be, over such a pretty face on a pretty neck?

_Tyler drove them all crazy. And damn straight they were into it._

None of them could ever be as _into it_ as Josh was. Still is. 

He marches toward Tyler in a blur, fury blocking every sound out - but all of it melts away when he's in front of Tyler. They're so freaking g _orgeous_ Josh is  _weak._ He feels like crying right now.  "Why?" He asks, voice vacillating and breaking when he sees Tyler starts to shake. "Why did you leave? What could be more important than _us?_ " It's like a flood breaking down every bit of his barriers. Josh is a man of actions, but he isn't one of confrontations - he hates creating scenes. Yet, seeing Tyler here after this night _a month ago_ , seeing him glowing and beautiful and just as weirdly graceful as always, the ocean of his feelings that have been accumulated for the last  _four years_  and _one month_ comes and drowns everything.

Josh is mad and sad and shocked and still crazy in love, he wants _answers_.

Tyler weakly pushes the arm around his waist, taking a shaky step to be closer to Josh. Their familiar smell hit Josh like a brick of pure heaven, he distantly wonders how he's still standing upward right now. He wants to get down on his knees and pray to all the divinities that heard his prayers  _\- thank you_. He also wants to curse them all to hell, because his beloved is freaking  _pregnant._ They're going to be round and beautiful with gorgeous babies that won't be  _Josh's._

"You," Tyler whispers, eyebrows drawn together and their expression that pink-red of wonder and melancholy. They bring their lanky arms around them, and Josh wants to cry because they look so lovely and loveable in that too-big black pullover and just as black leggings. "Your happiness is more important than us, your success is more important than us."

 Josh is confused. Confused and hurt, which may explain, at least a little bit, why he blurts out something so dumb a second later. "Yeah. That's why you got yourself pregnant with another man." He murmurs bitterly.

There's a heavy silence following this statement, a hush over the room - everything becomes cold, freezing even. Josh sees his angel's expression break and then turn into one of godly fury.

Before Josh knows it, there's a stinging pain in his cheek, and his angel's hand is raised. Their enticing cherry lips are pulled into a thin line. He's shaking.

Josh thinks they said-

"I'm having  _your_ baby. And you know what? It's none of your business!"

Then they're gone like the wind.

 

 

 

                  Josh had always been sure he lost the love of his life to New York.

Yet, after thinking about it hours ago in his golden tower, he never imagined he would find them once again. It's exactly sixteen hours and twenty fives minutes later than the first thought, and he watches with wide eyes as they disappear from his sight faster than a pregnant person should. - They were standing right here, a minute ago, no trace of hard liquor in their eyes or in their hands, but even more gorgeous in the lights of purity and a fierce expression on their delicate features.

_Oh God, they're driving me crazy._

**Author's Note:**

> So... yes.  
> not sure if i should continue this????  
> i hope you enjoyed! please tell me what you think about it <3 or breakdown with me over that beautiful song named Kiwi *sobs*


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